Would you like to ride in my beautiful balloon?

This morning, Sonny & I were driving a million miles away to attend Sissy’s softball tournament.

[as you know, this is the rule of softball tournaments: they must always be a million miles away so that you can prove your commitment to the sport by going to far off lands]

Halfway there, we spotted two hot air balloons rising into the gorgeous spring morning.

Sonny turned to me and asked if I’d ever be able to do something like go up in a hot air balloon since I’m afraid of heights.

“Hmmmm…I’m not sure,” I replied, not convinced that it would be the same as standing at the top of an icy mountain with no other way down than by engaging my fear-juice squirting mechanism.

So I explained that I wasn’t sure, but maybe; maybe I’d be able to go up in a hot air balloon. It would certainly be a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

I looked at Sonny, trying to gain consensus on the “once-in-a-lifetime experience” thing whereupon he shrugs and says matter-of-factly, “Well…unless you OWNED a balloon.”

[as you know, this is the rule of sons: they must always provide you with perspective on the fact that even though you think you know lots…you don’t know EVERYTHING.]

So yes. Yes, good point, Sonny. A balloon ride would be thrilling and only happen once in your life unless you OWNED a balloon & could go up in it every day. Whereupon it would be matter of meh – just another ho hum ride in my balloon. Snoozeville. Remind me again why I wanted to buy this balloon in the first place?!? So tedious…

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